


A New Holiday

by DarrowWyrlde



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Grunkles Day!, Hints at Feral Ford, Mabel is a princess, Stan is a grouch in the mornings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:45:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15036980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarrowWyrlde/pseuds/DarrowWyrlde
Summary: Father's Day comes and goes and Mabel decides to come up with a special holiday for her favorite Grunks.





	1. Awakenings

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fic spawned by guilt. This is my first year in this fandom and I totally missed the Stans' Birthday! I had actually started writing a fic for the occasion but...I didn't have time and it didn't work out.  
> So I was thinking of some way to make it up to 'them'. And it was Father's Day. So I thought, why not make the Sunday after Father's Day, Great-Uncle's Day?  
> I know, someone has probably already done something similar but...
> 
> For now on and forever in Darrow's Wyrlde, GREAT-UNCLE'S DAY falls on the 4th Sunday of June!!! Feel free to celebrate with YOUR favorite Grunkles!

“Grunkle  _ Stan.  _ Grunkle  _ Staaaaaaannn.  _ Wake  _ uuuuppp _ .”

Stan rolled over and tried his best  _ not _ to glare at Mabel. She was too darn happy. Not that was a bad thing. “What is it sweetie?” he groaned.

“I made you breakfast in bed!”

Stan inwardly rolled his eyes. He just wanted to sleep. But...it was a nice gesture, and now he could  _ smell _ the eggs and... _ bacon _ ! 

He sat up with a groan. Might as well wake up. 

He cocked an eyebrow when he saw the heavy laden plate in her hands. “Not that I’m complaining, but why?”

Mabel grinned and started to bob up and down in excitement. “It’s a surprise!”

“A surprise huh?” Stan thought for a minute. No cause for this wonderful breakfast could come to mind. The only thing was a week ago. “Does this have anything to do with our birthday? That was last week Mabel.” 

“No, well...kinda?” Mabel seemed to be conflicted with how much she could tell him. Okay, so time to weed out some more clues.

“Is Ford getting the royal treatment too?”

“Grunkle Stan! Don’t try to figure out the surprise!”

“Alright,” he rolled his eyes, this time fondly. “Ya don’t have ta tell me nothing if you don’t wanna.”

“But yes,” she continued. “And...could you stay in your room while I get Grunkle Ford up too?”

He sighed and took the plate from her. “Sure pumpkin.”

“Eeeee! Thanks Grunkle Stan!” She bounded forward and gave him a hug, almost knocking the plate from his hand. Before he could react she was already skipping to the door. “Remember, DON’T COME OUT! I’ll get you when it’s okay.”

“Fine, just don’t be long!”

She closed the door behind her.

Sigh. He shook his head. She was just too darn happy. 

He grinned. And he wouldn’t want her to be any other way.

 

* * *

 

He guessed it was sign of his progress, adjusting back to this dimension, that Stanford didn’t jolt awake at the call of his name. Or when a hand gently shook his shoulder. Or when it started poking his gut. 

Stanford only woke up, and slowly, when the presence wanting him conscious decided to climb up on the bed next to him and curl into his side. 

He took a deep sniff of the air and caught a hint of coconut shampoo. 

He cracked open his lids and saw a beaming face burying itself into his chest and a bright spread of pink.

Stanford smiled and wrapped an arm around his Mabel. 

“Grunkle  _ Fooorrrd _ . You are awake!” She looked up at him, her face like a frustrated kitten’s. 

“Now I am,” he said softly. “Although, if you were trying to wake me, going to sleep yourself was probably not the best idea.”

“I wasn’t going to sleep!” Mabel shifted back a bit so she could look at him without straining her neck. “I just saw a cuddle opportunity and took it!”

“Well,” he started, smile turning mischievous. “You seem to have forgotten who’s the hug monster here!” His arm tightened, pulling her close again and she erupted in an explosion of giggles. The giggles grew louder as he propped himself up and commenced tickling. 

“Grun- _ heh _ -kle  _ heh ha _ Ford! St- _ hah- _ to-op!”

Stanford dug his fingers into her sides a few more times then did as she requested. He laid back down and wrapped her in his arms again. “So Princess, to what do I owe the pleasure of this fine awakening?”

“Oh! I-” She sat up suddenly, clipping his jaw with her head. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine.” Stanford made the conscious effort to not raise a hand to the sore spot. “You were saying?” He began to sit up.

“Yes! I made you breakfast in bed Magician!” Mabel proclaimed, continuing their little game.

“You Princess?” Stanford asked with a light scolding tone. “I thought princesses weren’t aloud to cook, just like magicians?” 

“ _ Well,  _ the Prince  _ might _ have made it,” she admitted. “But I did all the condiments!” She pointed to his bed stand. 

There was a large plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. 

Stanford sat up fully and reached behind her to snag the meal. “You even put jelly on my eggs!” he grinned. 

“Yep!” a proud expression overtook her face. “Just like you like them! And there’s coffee too!” She nodded to the mug while she passed him his fork.

Stanford took a bite of the jelly smothered eggs. “Mmmh! You’re right Princess, just how I like them.” He swallowed and put his fork down as a question came to mind. He looked down at the gleaming smile beside him. “Might I ask  _ why _ Your Highness is bringing my breakfast?” He grinned mischievously again, “And is the Knight getting one too?” 

Her eyes grew wide. “Grunkle Stan! I forgot!” She glanced at his wall clock then promptly bounded off the bed. “I’ll be right back Grunkle Ford, I need to check on Stan!” She raced out of the room leaving him confused. 

Her head popped back in the doorway, “And don’t come out yet! There’s a surprise!” She slammed the door in her wake.

Stanford stared at the closed door for a moment, then let out a huff of laughter and turned to the food in his lap. “What are you up to this time Princess?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm a busy person...okay, I procrastinate like crazy.  
> I don't have it all finished for my self proclaimed GRUNKLES DAY but, I'll have it all out soon as I can!  
> Enjoy the Fluff ya Got!!!


	2. Knock TWICE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one's a bit rambly and choppy. I'm not happy with it. I could have skipped all this stuff but I felt the need to include it. We'll get to the 'fun stuff' soon.

“Grunkle Stan?” Mabel knocked on the door this time, which was good seeing as he was getting dressed. 

“Just a sec Mabel!” Stan called. She obediently waited.

Stan crossed the small room, did up his fly, and opened the door. “Can I come out now pumpkin?”

“Not yet,” she announced and stepped past him into the room. “Did you finish your breakfast?” 

“Yes,” his tone turned stern. “And I thought a certain someone wasn’t  _ aloud  _ to cook anymore.”

“Dipper cooked!” Mabel said in a hurry as she grabbed the empty plate and mug. “I did the condiments.” 

“Well,” Stan smiled, assuring her he wouldn’t have been mad anyway, “Thanks for the ketchup then.” He frowned, then grimaced. “You put jelly on Ford’s eggs, didn’tcha?”

“Yup!”

“Ugh, and I thought  _ I  _ had bad eating habits.” His tone was joking. “So, when can I come out? I’ve gotta use the john eventually.” 

“Soon! You just need to wait for Grunkle Ford to finish too. I’ll go check on him! Stay here!” Mabel darted back out, dirty dishes in hand.

Stan shook his head and turned to his bed where a fresh t-shirt lay. 

He pulled it on over his undershirt and decided what to do now as he waited for Mabel’s permission to leave the room.

“I could always just go,” he grumbled to himself. No, he wouldn’t do that. Sometimes it was fun to frustrate Mabel, but today it seemed she was really working hard for  _ something. _

Stan settled on pulling the hidden novel out from under his pillow and to try to make some headway into the murder mystery. Maybe he could figure out who the culprit was before Mabel gave the all clear…

 

* * *

 

 

Stanford had finished his breakfast quickly and was in the middle of pulling on his pants when the door burst open. There was a loud squeak and the door was quickly slammed closed again. 

Stanford grew red as his mind registered the pink dart he had seen and hurriedly finished dressing himself. 

A moment later he tentatively called out, “Come in?” The door creaked open. Mabel’s face poked in. 

Her feet shuffled as she entered slowly.

“Sorry,” they both apologized simultaneously.

There was a pregnant pause...then they burst out laughing. 

“Your face Grunkle Ford!” 

“My face? Don’t you dare look that worried again!”

They laughed again. 

Stanford closed the distance and ruffled her hair. “Sorry yo-”

“I  _ know, _ ” Mabel stuck out her lip. “I should’ve knocked.”

“It’s fine, as long as you remember in the future. Now, am I aloud out of my room Princess?”

Mabel stepped back and seemed to size him up. “No,” she stated firmly.

“No?”

“Not until you change your sweater at least.”

Those were words he _never_ thought would __ come from her mouth. Especially since he was currently wearing one of her creations. The star covered ‘Magician’ one specifically.

“It’s gonna be really hot today,” she explained. “And we’re going to be doing a  _ whooole bunch _ of fun stuff. I don’t want you to get overheated.” 

Stanford took in her own t-shirt and shorts, then shrugged. “Alright, give me a minute please?”

She nodded happily and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Stanford quickly tugged off the thick piece of winter wear and turned to his dresser. He gave the subject a moment’s thought.

He could always wear one of his dress shirts, those were lighter...but Mabel had said ‘fun stuff’. He didn’t want to ruin said dress shirt. His massive collection of sweaters was apparently out of the question, so that left him with his two t-shirts. 

He glanced down at his scar-ridden arms ...and sighed.

“They don’t care, remember?” he mumbled to himself. “Besides, if you came out in anything else, Mabel might make you change again.” It was decided.

A moment later Stanford walked out of his room sporting a black tee. He self-consciously folded his arms behind his back, this time for a reason besides his hands.

“So?” he asked Mabel, waiting in the hall.

Mabel took stock of his awkward stance, then smiled. She reached forward and pulled on an arm. “Now we go get Stan!” She started tugging him down the hall.

Stanford smiled graciously and let his other arm drop. He was being ridiculous and Mabel had just pointed out how so without saying a word. She didn’t care about his scars. He really shouldn’t either. 

He let his great-niece lead him to Stan’s room, his smile almost as bright as her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, really choppy. I was trying to make a point here but couldn't get the phrasing right! Grrr....  
> Also a bit Ford centric here. Not doing that on purpose. Next one will focus on Stan, promise.


End file.
